


That Time Our Game Went Horribly Wrong

by SonicoSenpai



Series: Established Relationships [4]
Category: Lamento -BEYOND THE VOID-
Genre: Abduction, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Cat Ears, Cat Tails, Consensual Non-Consent, Established Relationship, Fear, Five Years Later, Kidnapping, M/M, Original Universe, Rai’s good ending, Sex Gone Wrong, Spoilerish, Terror, Violence, When sex play goes horribly wrong, eventual fluff and comfort, probably triggering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 20:08:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17710745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonicoSenpai/pseuds/SonicoSenpai
Summary: Set in the original Lamento universe after Rai’s good ending, Rai and Konoe have just returned from a grueling hunt. They are thirsting for play—and Konoe arranges to meet Rai at their regular bar. But he is intercepted. At first thinking this is part of their game, Konoe doesn’t realize the danger. But soon enough, he’s at the mercy of his captors.While sex isn’t prominent in this fic, I keep the rating at explicit bc of serious non-con themes.Also, the POV switches several times during the story.If you don’t want the game spoiled, maybe skip over this fic. And save it for later.





	That Time Our Game Went Horribly Wrong

**Konoe** :

It’s playtime.

I’m walking to our usual bar from Bardo’s inn, dressed to the nines, my fur beautifully groomed, my eyes sparkling in anticipation of my silver cat. I don’t know what he has planned for me tonight, but I know it’s something dirty.

To be clear, I was never bored with our sex life before now. It’s just that these games we play allow me a sense of freedom I have never experienced before—a sense of power, or loss of power and control I have always fantasied about but have always been too afraid to try or ask for directly. It’s a safe way to experience these feelings directly with my precious partner.

And more than that—that he is so open and willing to oblige my silly fantasies—it makes me feel loved and precious. He obviously enjoys them, and he gets into them and loves them, too. It’s clear he too is playing—something he was never allowed to do as a child. It’s as if our sexual play touches my emotional needs and his past neglect at the same time, and cures us both. It’s the perfect balance!

This evening is a little different. It isn’t the mating season. We are in town after another successful hunt. It took almost a full moon cycle to track down this bastard, and toward the end, we could only take turns sleeping—and Rai, he is at his limit. I am, too—but during those last few days, while he was supposed to be keeping watch, he often toyed with my sleeping body while I slept, and I woke more aroused than I ever have been even after my complete and utter exhaustion. After the third day, I took his face in my hands and I promised him that as soon as the bounty was caught he could do whatever he liked to me. I would not complain.

And now, I am looking forward to what he has in mind. He told me only to bathe, groom, dress in clean clothes—which he had laid out for me—a new outfit, in fact—and meet him at our usual bar. I’m beyond excited, my ears perked ahead of me, searching out his scent. He was here recently. He must be inside! 

Yet, before I lay my hands on the heavy door to pull it open, as I have thousands of times in the past, someone grabs me from behind, pressing a cloth to my face. It smells weirdly sweet—and my vision shakes. My first thought that this _must_ be Rai, coming to collect me, but it smells _nothing_ like him. Then I’m filled with fear.

Maybe he’s hired someone? To bring me somewhere? As my consciousness fades, these thoughts wander across my mind—hoping so hard that I might actually _make_ them so. Please—he’s been hired by Rai, _please_ —and then, my consciousness slips and my mind goes blank. 

 

* * *

 **Rai** :

I told him to meet me here fifteen minutes ago. I normally don’t worry after five, but he is late if he isn’t early—it’s just how he is. I’m nervous. Something must have happened. So I slam my shot and pay my tab, then walk outside—and I’m shocked that I can smell his delicate scent, still floating in the air. To me it’s like an enchanting perfume—to others, well, I don’t even want to consider.

Something has gone wrong.

No one has dared touch him in the past years since he has been mine. But the thought rears its ugly head now—someone has abducted him, has taken my lovely Sanga. I _need_ him—not for work, but just to live. My very _existence_ depends on his soft smile, the approval from his eyes. I depend on him—and it is for his sake alone that I don’t fall into that despair of insanity that was growing inside me. But for his warmth, I’ve been given a second chance. I cannot fathom life without him. I _need_ him.

Trying to calm myself when I step outside, I raise my nose and try to do my job. I need to follow his scent, of course. Of course, I will. Two or three other cats have overpowered him here— _two_ , actually—fighters—and they are familiar. I’m worried since I recognize their scent but can’t quite place it. Who is this? What do they want with my precious, beautiful Sanga? 

I follow the scent down the alley to the outskirts of town.  

 

* * *

  **Konoe** :

When I wake up—and I realize this is definitely _not_ part of Rai’s game. My head is fuzzy and throbbing, my mouth feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton. I feel sick—and I’m surrounded by a scent that is not Rai’s. I have no idea where I am, but it looks like a small, worn-down cottage—and it’s awfully quiet, making me think we are outside the city.

Also, I am tied up—bound with my hands behind me—sitting on the dirty floor. It’s very dark in here, and my eyes are getting used to the light.

”Weren’t you a black cat?” The vaguely familiar voice makes me shiver, and I look to see who is talking.

“I don’t give a shit either way. What we have planned will work regardless of the color of your fur.”

“My Touga hasn’t hired you?” I ask.

“No,” replied a spotted cat—black and white. So very familiar.

“Hired us for what?” an orange and black striped cat replies. “Is this some kind of game you play? How perverted! But... I might be persuaded to play along.” 

My ears flatten at his tone, and I’m frustrated and afraid. What was I supposed to say?

“Oh, don’t look so scared, kitten. We’ve been watching the two of you for a long time—you, a genuine Sanga, pairing up with a strong Setsuran Touga like him. In some ways, it’s natural. But we want to hurt _him_ more than you, so we don’t plan to kill you.”

I feel even worse after hearing these words—they want to hurt him? And the easiest way to injure Rai’s heart is to wound me. I cannot let my emotions show, but my body starts to sweat when I hear the cat’s slight shift in tone.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re awfully chatty for a simple little Sanga,” the black spotted cat purrs. “I think I’d be happy to see him on his knees in pain and grief. He loves you dearly, doesn’t he?”

“You’ve known the silver cat much longer than I have,” I say, keeping my voice steady to protect him. “And he’d be upset if he lost the function of his precious Sanga—but I am just a tool to him.” 

“A tool?” 

“Oh, yes. He could replace me with a more competent Sanga at any time,” I say firmly, and it sounds like I believe it. Saying these words out loud reminds me of how I used to think, how I used to believe Rai thought of me when we first paired up. But he’s never seen me this way. _Never_.

“And you expect me to believe that after seeing these games you play?” The larger tiger-striped cat growls.

“What games?” I ask, but I’m getting scared. Have they been watching?

“We saw you—acting like you don’t know each other and then flirting shamelessly and publicly at that bar in Ransen.”

We aren’t in Ransen anymore. They have brought me outside the city. Will Rai be able to find me here? Why do these two look so familiar? The tiger cat is missing a piece of his tail—and then I remember.

The first time I sang—after Rai “tested my strength” in the southern forest when I was cursed and lost in the woods—these are those business rivals. They are still after him!

When I don’t respond to the comment about my shameless flirting, the black spotted cat continues. I remember—he is a Sanga and he plays the flute.

“I saw the Setsuran drag you out of the bar on several different occasions, like he was laying claim to you.”

“I am his Sanga,” I point out neutrally. 

“Psh, what he was doing had nothing to do with your song or your bond as Sanga and Touga! You know it, too!”

“What _exactly_ do you think I know? I told you what I know, and whatever it is you think you can get from this exercise—it’s pointless.”

“Ah, but you see, it isn’t. Because we have you, now, even if he doesn’t come for you,” the tiger growls in my ear. He’s much larger than I remember, and I find him intimidating.

“Do you want money?” I ask. “We’ve just gotten paid on a rather good bounty—”

“We know,” their voices answer in unison, and they are angry. Oh, shit. Have I made it worse?

“It was you two, wasn’t it?” The striped cat growls low. “He’s _always_ done this—swiped in and stolen our bounty and the prize money, again and again—over and over. Well, I think a little lesson in humility is due.”

He grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet, giving me a sharp push—and I fall face first into a squeaky old bed. _Shit_! Terror rushes through me.

“Listen—whatever it is you think you can get out of him, doing this to me is not going to get you what you want!” I say, desperately. “Whatever you think it is I have with that cat, I do it because it’s _expected_ —and he’s _big_ and _demanding_ —and if I don’t submit he will _make_ me.”

“Ah, then this will be nothing new for you,” the tiger growls again, right in my ear, making me shiver with revulsion. Bile rises in my throat and my knees shake. “So you can just close your eyes and relax and take what's coming to you. I’m taking you first.” My ears are licked, and then my nape is smelled, where he digs his nose in deep and inhales—and I shudder. I think I hear a soft chuckle. “You’ve even bathed to prepare yourself for me? How thoughtful!”

“Come on, hurry it up,” the spotted cat complains. “I want a turn, too.”

“Shut up and keep watch.” 

“Please—don’t do this—I’m sure I can get you what you want,” I am begging desperately, feeling his grubby, calloused hands brushing through the fur on my tail. It feels so different than the tender way Rai touches me—this feels like he is trying to hurt me, anticipating my pain. My stomach lurches and I feel like I might throw up. “Please! What do you really want?”

“You, of course, kitten,” it’s purred low in my ear—but I can still quite clearly hear the clinking of a belt buckle and I feel him brushing his hand over the seat of my pants. It’s disgusting! 

“You don’t want me!” My mind is racing. “H-he has a d-disease!” I blurt but my pants are already coming down. “You know him—he’s m-mean and t-takes whatever he likes whenever he likes, and it was bound to happen sooner or later, a-and n-now I h-have it, too!”

It kills me to refer to my beloved this way—it’s frightening—but I don’t know how else to get out of this! I don’t want him to touch me!

“What kind of disease?” The spotted cat asks, turning away from the window to look at me.

“The kind that makes you slowly go crazy! The kind you catch from sexual encounters with others who are infected! You’ve seen him smile, haven’t you? In the midst of battle? I know you have!” My body is bent in half and my pants and underwear are unceremoniously stripped from my body. This only makes me more desperate, and my words come faster.

“You know, I’ve heard of that,” the spotted cat says. “Maybe you should wait.”

“Are you fucking kidding? Look at him!” The striped cat growls, and he’s got me pinned against the bed, my legs over the side and bared, my ass on display, my tail fluffed out in fear, helplessly. His hand glides over my buttocks and fingers slip between my cheeks. “You really expect me to get this far and not indulge? Look at him, you fucking idiot!”

“I know, he’s pretty, but your dick could fall off,” the spotted cat sounds slightly breathless—and much closer—he’s not at the window. “That’s what I heard. There was a prostitute in my village who had this disease, and some of the older cats caught it from her, and they went crazy, and their dicks rotted off!”

“But don’t you think it might be _worth_ it? For this? And to see the haughty silver cat’s face once we’ve destroyed the love of his life?”

I can’t breathe or get any words out—and I am praying to the gods that Rai will show up soon—what the hell is he waiting for?! Never have I wanted to see that haughty face so much! Well—except for the time when I was facing Leaks... and this feels an awful lot like that time. My life is flashing before my eyes!

“Didn’t you see _this_?” The tiger says again, and I feel a soft touch on my hand. The ring! “It’s from him, isn’t it?”

“W-we d-did w-well on a b-bounty a-and it w-was m-my r-reward—” I stammer, tears slipping down my face, but I’m interrupted by a firm, sharp slap against my bare ass, making me grunt in pain. 

“Ah, now that was nice. I know this is from him. I also know the history behind Setsurans and their rings. He considers you _his_. He thinks you are _special_. This will _kill_ him.”

“H-he will really k-kill you this time!” I yell, continuing to struggle and earning myself another sharp spank. 

 

* * *

**Rai/Devil Rai:**

I think this is the place. And I’ve placed the scent. It’s those two annoying “business rivals,” I called them. They attacked me in the forest south of Ransen when I first met Konoe—when he first sang for me. I should have killed them then. I thought I smelled their scent during our last hunt, too.

Anger mixed with fear boils up inside my gut, and it takes everything I have to disguise my presence—but then I hear his voice—and he’s _terrified_.

 _Shit_. What the fuck are they doing to him?!

For a moment, my vision goes white with hot rage—and I am suddenly in front of the door, kicking it in. I don’t even bother with the handle when I hear his voice, covered with tears. The sight—of him—my Sanga—bent over the mattress, his lower half stripped bare and vulnerable, hands bound behind him, tail lashing—raises a growl I cannot control rises in my throat. 

And my eyesight darkens to red—this hasn’t happened in many years—that insanity he’s kept at bay. It floods through me, making me fluff out my fur and growl, though it settles my trembling fingers, allowing me to steadily draw both weapons. 

The next few moments pass as though in slow motion, and I watch as if someone has possessed me. 

A beast-like growl comes from my lips, which are drawn up in a now foreign-feeling smile, and I stab my sword into the foot of the black spotted cat standing closest to me. After feeling the satisfying sound of the tip of the sword connecting with the floor through the sole his boot, I rip it out immediately and tear into his hand with my dagger, watching the blood spurt from his wounds.

He is screaming in pain and terror—and I realize he won’t be able to perform his Sanga song now. I leave him and move to the bed.

“I believe you have something of mine.”

My voice is husky and dry, empty of emotion, and the striped cat pales with terror. He cannot move fast enough.

“Don’t touch me or I’ll—”

But he moves much too slow. I think he means to draw claws along my Sanga’s neck, but he doesn’t get a chance. Brutally, my sword slices off the hand closest to the small cat I am desperate to protect. The striped cat’s screams add to the color of the room, and blood spills from the stump at his wrist.

For a moment, I consider the color and warmth of the blood that is flowing freely—but I hear a soft sob and then I notice the song. It’s warmer and sweeter than any blood flowing, and I look at the source—the precious kitten restrained on the bed.

I _want_ him. 

“R-rai,” he whispers softly. That voice is mesmerizing—the song still streams from him, captivating me—and I am not yet ready to cede this body back to the other cat who calls himself Rai just yet. I want that kitten. I’m obsessed with him.

I run my claws through his hair, through the fur of his ears, down his back, and lick the scent of the bleeding, wounded, and now cowering tiger from his nape and ears. The striped cat touched what does not belong to him—as this small cat belongs to me. He’s _accepted_ me—I remember that night, all those years ago—he accepted me with his soft caress, his gentle kissing, his whimpered murmurs, his gentle purr. He _trusted_ me. 

Why? Is he, as Rai suggests, truly a stupid cat? Even the silver cat doesn’t really believe that, though. He has a tendency to call things stupid that he does not understand.

I haven’t released the kitten’s wrists yet, and I look around for a moment. The two wounded cats are watching me warily, the tiger still groaning in pain and using his belt as a tourniquet. I ignore them and continue licking the soft, musical one. He’s perfect—he smells so nice—so warm.

He’s injured—slightly—his claws are swollen, and he’s got several obvious handprints in his beautiful exposed rump. Another deep growl issues from within my throat. They dare lay hands on him this way? In such a private place?

“You are safe now,” I whisper.

“Rai,” he sobs again—calling the name of the silver cat. I wonder if he knows _I_ am here, that _I_ am the one who saved him.

I want to take him _here_ —in front of these wounded and broken cats—right now, but my kitten still trembles in fear.

“Please, take me away from here,” he cries, and tears leak from his eyes.

I pick him up in my arms and carry him like a princess from this cabin, stepping over the damaged cats, walking into the darkness of the woods.

“Did you think I wouldn’t come for you?” I whisper into his ear, which is still flattened against his head. I’ve kept him bound—it might be handy later. And I feel the silver cat trying to overpower me. Not _yet_ —I’m not finished yet. 

“I _knew_ you would come. I just didn’t know when. I’ve never wanted to see your face so much—” and then he meets my eyes. I think he knows—after looking at my face. I am still smiling. His breath catches slightly—is he afraid of me?

But instead, he leans his head into my chest, pressing his nose against my shoulder—that strange gesture of friendship he’s trained the silver cat to reciprocate after all these years. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice quiet. “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you. Thank you.”

And he bursts into silent sobs again—his chest heaving.

I stop walking for a moment, and I set him on his feet, kissing away his tears—such a sweet taste—releasing his hands from their restraints. He doesn’t try to run, but instead, throws both arms around me. 

“I had to say the most _awful_ things—to try to get them to stop—and nothing worked! You didn’t hear, did you? I believe _none_ of it. I _love_ you— _all_ of you. You are _precious_ to me.”

Golden eyes—filled with warmth—gaze into my eye, which surely is clouded over in darkness. But he shows no fear. Instead, he unties the eyepatch from my head and reached up to my right eye socket and drops a series of soft kisses along it.

“ _You_ saved me. Thank you.” Is it my imagination, or did he accent the word “You”? It makes a feeling of warmth and desire course through my body.

“Don’t you realize I’m a monster? Residing within the body of your beloved?”

“I know who you are,” he answers and then plops a wet kiss on my lips. What is this magical creature? “I can’t help it. I _love_ you.” 

“Me? The monster? The demon?” 

“Demons do not feel so warm,” the kitten replies. He’s delightful. There’s something about him that satisfies my soul, my mind—and I want him to satisfy my body, too—but I don’t feel I have the right to take it from my host. “You are no demon.” 

Hearing him accept me—that’s enough. I relax my hold on Rai’s mind, and he’s back within seconds. I think he can’t always see what happens when I take over, but even if he can now, he _hates_ it. However, I can always see. And I always watch. I know the kitten isn’t lying. 

 

* * *

 

 **Konoe** :

“Konoe?” Rai sounds disoriented, as though waking from a dream. I wonder if that’s what it feels like. “Did I—hurt you?”

“No! Rai, you would never!” Taking his cheeks in my hands, I bring his face close and kiss his lips, his nose, his forehead, both his eyes. “You _saved_ me.”

A growling sigh of relief comes from my silver cat, and then his eye narrows sharply. Now it’s coming—the _scolding_! Ugh!

“What the _hell_ happened?” 

“They took me by surprise.” My ears lower and my tail droops. I _know_ I have a good scolding coming to me. “I may have been overly eager, and I admit my wits were not about me.”

“Stupid cat! Do you know what could have happened to you?” His sharp tone reminds me of a scolding he gave me five years ago when I got into a fight during the peak of the mating season at our now favorite bar.

“I know.” I sigh softly. 

“Don’t _sigh_ at me! If I hadn’t shown up _right_ then, don’t you _realize_ —?”

“I _know_ ,” I reply. I look up at him, and he’s really angry. Tears shimmer on my lashes. “I didn’t mean to worry you—”

“Konoe.” He interrupts me suddenly. “If _anything_ happened to you—I don’t know what I’d do. I heard your voice, and you sounded so afraid!”

“I was very scared,” I admit, a few tears slipping past my defenses.

“I’m sorry. The last thing you need now is a scolding.” Rai looks away.

“Actually, I don’t mind so much,” I admit—and it sounds an _awful_ lot like a confession. It also makes his ears twitch cutely. To clarify, I continue, “It reminds me how much you care about me.” 

“Konoe, if I told you—um—if I _told_ you how much, um, I cared about you—how lost I would be without you, would, um, you be more careful?” Rai looks just over my shoulder when he says these words. “I don’t like how this feels—my well-being depends on the well-being of a stupid cat who refuses to take care of himself!” He looks back at me now, the same sharp look, the same sharp tone, the same strong Touga I’ve loved all these years.

I can’t help it. Tears spill down my face.

“I’m sorry,” I sob. “I-I d-didn’t mean to worry you—and I-I was j-just being careless! F-forgive me! I love you, Rai!”

Warm arms encircle my body, and I’m scooped up into those often overly protective arms. His scent is familiar and like home to me. He is my home, my strength, even if my role as Sanga is to enforce his power. 

“Of course, you do,” he whispers almost haughtily in my ear. “I’m sure you can make it up to me, somehow.” 

I pull away from him for a second.

“At first, I thought you’d hired them.”

“What.” Rai’s voice is not rising in question, and he’s glaring at me. “Hired them.”

“Um, for our game?” I feel my cheeks blush and the heat quickly rises to my ears. I know because of the temperature and because of Rai’s eye, which lands on my head briefly. 

“For what purpose?”

“Um,” I’m ashamed now, but what the hell? “To abduct me, frighten me a little, perhaps, um, prepare me for you.”

“Prepare you?” He sounds utterly aghast—horrified—almost like he was when he found out I’d never even heard of the symptoms of mating season. “In the name of Ribika, what the hell was _that_ suppose to prepare you for?”

I am too embarrassed to answer and drop my chin, but it’s quickly nudged, and I find a clear blue gaze boring into me.

“You brought it up, and now I want to know. _What_ was that supposed to prepare you for?”

“I-I don’t really know,” I say softly, dropping my eyes when I’m unable to move. “B-but I did say you c-could do anything...”

“You thought I’d hire perfect strangers—no, known _business_ _rivals_ who were hot on our trail during our last hunt—to _abduct_ you?!”

My ears flatten, and he is certainly scolding me now. But wait a minute—hot on our trail?!

“What do you mean?” I shoot back. “You encouraged me to walk alone in the city of Ransen, late at night, knowing those two were after you?!”

“What? Don’t tell me you couldn’t tell!” Rai sighs exaggeratedly. “Is that nose on your face simply for decoration?”

I click my tongue—it’s not the first time he’s accused me of having a poor sense of smell.

“You are such a little brat! Don’t you click your tongue at me!” But it’s too late, I see the corners of his mouth curling up at the side, and then—he chuckles. The chuckle gets louder and longer, turning into real laughter—till he is laughing so hard he is wheezing.

I’m relieved, if slightly offended. 

“Is my lack of sense of smell really that funny to you?” 

“Yes,” he hiccups. “How the hell are you a bounty hunter?!” 

“I’m not!” I think I am offended. “I’m a Sanga, and I’ll follow you anywhere!”

“If you can find me,” Rai chuckles.

“Okay, that’s mean,” I say. 

“If you could find your way out of a paper bag,” Rai laughs again.

“Stop,” I say, embarrassed. “I admit, they smelled familiar, but I didn’t recognize them nor had I seen them since that day five years ago.”

Rai roughly pulls me into his arms again and drags me into the grass. He kisses my lips—hard and dirty—and I’m still eager, desperate for him. It’s been too long! 

“I’m sorry,” Rai whispers against my mouth. “‘I think your lack of smell is adorable.”

I growl and bristle my fur in response. 

“It’s a _good_ thing!” He insists. Then he continues—and I know what he’s going to say before he says it. “If I didn’t, I’d have left you in the forest a long time ago.”

I giggle when I hear it—when he told me not to follow him to Mirror Lake. No—when he said, “Even if I told you not to follow, you’d still come anyway. Because you’re a stupid cat who never listens.” If I weren’t a Sanga, that’s when he said he’d have left me in the forest—but I’d still come back because I never listen!

“I knew I loved you, even then,” I whisper. 

“I loved you then, too—I’m not sure I knew it at the time, but I certainly loved you.” 

Rai keeps kissing me and he pulls his claws through my hair, undoing the braid. My hair has gotten long—not as long as his, of course, nor as thick and lovely—but I love when he plays with it.

We are out in the woods, not too far—I think—from that little creek behind Bardo’s inn—where Rai first kissed me. At the time, we were both under the influence of catnip—and I was worried he only kissed me because of the catnip. But later, I realized I was wrong. He _wanted_ to kiss me, be close to me that way—he was attracted to me. I wonder if I’d have submitted to him then—if we hadn’t stopped—what would have happened? Would our bond have grown faster or would I have broken it with my incessant worry?

I smile, remembering who I was back then, and Rai pulls away.

“It’s creepy when you smile like that for no reason,” he teases, smiling down at me.

“I was just remembering the last time we were here, during the festival.”

“Ah. The catnip incident.” His breath is rough like it was back then, and I’m still always surprised at how much I enjoy seeing him come undone. “Ever wonder what would have happened if we hadn’t stopped?”

My fur fluffs out. It’s as if he read my mind.

“I was just thinking that.”

“I think it would have made our bond stronger, faster,” he murmurs confidently, licking deep inside my ear. I shiver a little and he purrs.

“That’s one way it could have gone. But I was so anxious back then,” I whisper.

“You’re still pretty anxious, but you’ve learned to let me soothe you. I’d like to think I’m good at it.”

Soothing my anxiety? Whether it was about the curse or the drastic measures we took during mating season, he’s right. He is good at soothing me and always has been. 

“You are.” 

“And so...” 

“So _what_?” I purr softly.

“Let me soothe you again.”

My heart flutters in my chest. I’ve always felt this—it’s as if Rai communicates his feelings, his tenderness, through touch. Almost as if words aren’t enough, so he uses gentle caresses instead. In connecting our bodies, he soothes my heart—he tells me he loves me. 

“And you don’t even _have_ to scold me,” I murmur softly. “Tch—ouch!” My tail is grabbed at the base, quite hard and suddenly.

“I heard that.” 

Relaxing into his arms, I let him love me—submitting to his touch, caressing him in return—but mostly, I allow myself the pleasure of floating in his care and tenderness.


End file.
